Snap
by Salazarfalcon
Summary: A collection of short one-shots based almost solely upon requests. Multiple characters, pairings, and alternate universes.
1. Ghost

Snap

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Disclaimer: No.

* * *

Summary: A collection of short one-shots based almost solely upon requests. Multiple characters, pairings, and alternate universes.

* * *

AN: So this is a series of short fics that I like to write at work when I'm bored out of my skull. They'll contain multiple characters, multiple pairings, and in fact you're more than welcome to make a request yourself. Whether it's in a PM, a review, or an ask on tumblr (sword-and-stars), I really don't mind! I'll post them as I write them.

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**Ghost  
**_Yuri is a ghost._

* * *

Yuri Lowell is a figment, a flicker.

He's a cluster of ideas and ideals, built off the needs of others and those who can't see. He's a spirit built by centuries of blindness. He's traveled the world and found it lacking.

He doesn't know what made him this way, if anything. All he knows is that he is, and the world is dull. Dull and vicious.

Yuri can touch but why would he want to? It's not like he can do anything but watch and remember. He knows that when people can feel him, he's cold and unpleasant. He'd be resentful but they can't help it.

The world is very, very blind.

He can't even really regret; people do it to themselves.

At least he thinks so until a little boy with blonde hair and the brightest blue eyes slips into the river and Yuri only steps forward because he's so young, practically a baby, and doesn't deserve death yet.

He grips the child by the hand and hauls him back up into dry land, and everyone thinks it's a miracle.

At least until the boy looks directly at Yuri, beams, and asks for his name.

* * *

AN2: Thank you very much for reading! Again, you're more than welcome to shoot me a request; if I like it, I'll write it!


	2. Teatime

Snap

* * *

Disclaimer: No.

* * *

Summary: A collection of short one-shots based almost solely upon requests. Multiple characters, pairings, and alternate universes.

* * *

AN: So this is a series of short fics that I like to write at work when I'm bored out of my skull. They'll contain multiple characters, multiple pairings, and in fact you're more than welcome to make a request yourself. Whether it's in a PM, a review, or an ask on tumblr (sword-and-stars), I really don't mind! I'll post them as I write them.

* * *

**Teatime  
**_Something with Raven and Estelle!_

* * *

Estelle still has trouble sleeping sometimes.

She thinks maybe it won't ever go away entirely, because it's been almost a year and she still jerks awake sometimes and has to catch her breath and wipe the tears off her face even though she knows that nothing she's dreaming of is going to hurt her.

She sleeps better in Dahngrest than she does in the castle, prefers the perpetual noise and bustle to the eerie silence that she grew up with. Estelle would rather have bats and crickets and a brisk wind at night than absolute quiet because sometimes her head gets a little too loud.

Still, sometimes nothing is quite enough even if she's sleeping at headquarters with Judy barely a room away and Yuri only two, and Estelle finds herself padding downstairs with the thickest book she can find on the way.

The sofa's old and squashed and kind of lumpy and Estelle loves it. It's secondhand and she's pretty sure that Yuri snatched it up off of a curb, but it's warm and comfortable and feels better than the perfect, too-nice ones in the palace in Zaphias. That warm, worn-out sofa feels good like one of Yuri's hugs and Estelle curls up on it in a position she's gotten used to and starts to read.

Try as she might, she can't fall asleep.

Until…

"You're up late, princess."

Estelle looks up and there's Raven, standing in the threshold. She shrugs, a little sheepish.

"You know me," she says with a self-deprecating smile. She might say something else but she doesn't need to. Raven already knows. They've spent enough quiet, sleepless nights by the embers of a burnt out campfire by now that she doesn't have to say anything.

He approaches and hands her something, sitting down next to her on that sofa with no intention of leaving.

Estelle holds a steaming cup on a saucer in her hands and she breathes in deep, smelling something sweet and just a little flowery.

"It's chamomile," he says.

"Aren't you going to have some?"

"Nah, darlin', it's all yours."

Raven knows exactly what Estelle needs, which isn't tea but calm, steady companionship. She doesn't need conversation, she doesn't need deep discussions about her feelings.

She just needs this.

Raven doesn't move her when she falls asleep, because he knows that she has a thing about waking up where she goes out, which didn't happen before he kidnapped her. Instead he merely takes the book from her slackened fingers and sets it aside, moves the empty cup out of range, and covers her with a blanket.

He could go back to bed but he won't because he won't be able to sleep, and he'd rather be able to watch over her, who trusts him enough to sleep in his presence.

It's only then that Raven goes into the kitchen, rattles quietly around for a second teacup, and drinks the remains of the kettle.

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AN2: Thank you for reading! Again, feel free to shoot me a request if you have a good idea~


	3. Fever

Snap

* * *

Disclaimer: No.

* * *

Summary: A collection of short one-shots based almost solely upon requests. Multiple characters, pairings, and alternate universes.

* * *

AN: So this is a series of short fics that I like to write at work when I'm bored out of my skull. They'll contain multiple characters, multiple pairings, and in fact you're more than welcome to make a request yourself. Whether it's in a PM, a review, or an ask on tumblr (sword-and-stars), I really don't mind! I'll post them as I write them.

* * *

**Fever  
**_Raven kisses Estelle. She does not react as expected._

* * *

Raven's burning up inside and Estelle doesn't how she can lower the fever without damaging his heart; he's always been sensitive to her artes and she can't risk hurting him worse than the fever already has.

Yuri called her when there weren't any other options and Estelle still wants to hit him for it.

If he'd called for her sooner, this might not be happening. If he'd called sooner, if, if…

But she can't think about the ifs. The ifs won't help her.

All Estelle can do is her best and right now her best is sitting at Raven's bedside with a cool towel and her magic at the ready, just in case it becomes worth it, in case she has to hurt him to save his life. She doesn't want it to come to that.

She's tried all the normal remedies she knows, herbs and medicines and as much magic as she dares to try and burn out the fever that burns him and all any of them can do is wait.

Raven's as strong as any of them, Estelle tells herself, he won't be done in by some stupid sickness.

He can't. She won't let him.

She'll dig in with teeth and claws if she has to, if that's what it takes to keep him there.

"Mmmmm," Raven groans and rustles the bed sheets, and Estelle's hovering over him instantly, hand slipping under bangs matted with sweat to feel his forehead.

"Raven, can you hear me?"

Estelle knows that the longer he's this sick, the harder it will be to come out of it.

"Raven?"

"….Casey?" He mumbles and Estelle's breath freezes the back of her throat. Raven doesn't really talk a lot about himself, only when he thinks it will help her or when she finds him when HE needs to, but Estelle knows that name.

She knows that the owner of that name is dead and can't ever come back.

"No, no, I'm sorry, Raven. I'm not…I'm not her, okay? I'm sorry."

"Quit whispering, you need to talk louder. I can't hear you, Case."

Estelle chokes on a near-silent sob at the tiny shake that goes through Raven's voice and thanks everything that no one else is here to see this. Raven would hate it and she wouldn't be able to explain it. She doesn't want to.

Raven thrashes in bed, clearly agitated and distressed, and Estelle leans over him.

"Calm down, okay? Raven—"

Blue eyes open wide with a snap and Raven looks at her but doesn't see her, and Estelle can't do anything when he leans up and kisses her. She could shriek or shove him away. She could.

But she doesn't.

Instead Estelle remains rock-steady where she is, one hand still braced on Raven's shoulder to try and keep him still. His lips tremble slightly against hers, as if he's fighting the urge to cry. Estelle stays where she is until he retreats on his own, sagging back against the pillows and curling up into a sick, miserable ball. Estelle does cry, then, silently, and keeps a hand in his hair until Yuri comes to check in on her, and then she can't explain to him why she's so upset.

Raven's fever breaks the next morning and he doesn't remember a thing.

Estelle doesn't breathe a word.

* * *

AN2: Thank you for reading! If you have any requests or ideas, shoot them my way!


	4. Cooks in the Kitchen

Snap

* * *

Disclaimer: No.

* * *

Summary: A collection of short one-shots based almost solely upon requests. Multiple characters, pairings, and alternate universes.

* * *

AN: So this is a series of short fics that I like to write at work when I'm bored out of my skull. They'll contain multiple characters, multiple pairings, and in fact you're more than welcome to make a request yourself. Whether it's in a PM, a review, or an ask on tumblr (sword-and-stars), I really don't mind! I'll post them as I write them.

* * *

**Cooks in the Kitchen  
**_Judy x Rita with voyeur!Karol._

* * *

All Karol wanted was a sandwich. That was it. Ham or turkey or maybe if Cyrus hadn't eaten all the shaved chicken, with some potato chips and maybe an apple or a cookie or…

Karol was never making another sandwich again, at least not in this kitchen.

Karol was never making another sandwich in this kitchen again because now he knew what went on in this kitchen, because all he wanted was a sandwich and now all he could see was Rita hoisted up on the kitchen counter with her legs wrapped around Judy's hips. Judy herself was twined around Rita with her lips attached to the column of her neck, clearly doing something amazing if the things coming out of Rita's mouth are to be believed.

Yep, Karol thinks with no small amount of despair, so much for sandwiches.

And yet for some reason he couldn't make himself look away. He really should leave, actually. All Karol had to do is take one or two steps backwards and he'd be out the door and free to forget this ever happened. Ever.

But for some reason he couldn't look away.

It was actually kind of impressive, he thought when enough of the shock had worn off that he could think in actual words and not incoherent choking sounds. How long's this been going on? Has anyone else walked in on this?

How many sandwiches has Karol eaten that have been indirectly touched by Rita's butt?

Karol kind of wanted to die.

Karol Capel was no longer a child. He'd helped saved the world and start one of the most well-known and sought-after guilds, _and _he was sixteen. Surely he was mature enough to walk away after walking in on two of his best friends…

Necking.

Spirits, what was wrong with his life?

At some point in the midst of Karol's internal monologue, Rita'd reached out and fisted her hands in the back of what amounted to Judy's skirt, tugging it and hiking it up to expose the entirety of Judy's behind. Okay, it was time to leave now.

Seriously, any minute now. Any _day _now.

And then Judy tilted her head, looked Karol straight in the eye, and _winked_. Karol thought briefly about running but he'd already been seen, and if she didn't care then what right did he have to except to make sure that they wiped off the counter and maybe made sure that no one was around first? Karol needed to evaluate himself.

So Judy winked and the grin on her face was absolutely shit-eating, and Karol just gave her a salute and walked away.

So much for sandwiches.

* * *

AN2: Thank you for reading! As always, feel free to shoot me any ideas you might have in a review, a PM, or an ask!


	5. Frosting

Snap

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Disclaimer: No.

* * *

Summary: A collection of short one-shots based almost solely upon requests. Multiple characters, pairings, and alternate universes.

* * *

AN: So this is a series of short fics that I like to write at work when I'm bored out of my skull. They'll contain multiple characters, multiple pairings, and in fact you're more than welcome to make a request yourself. Whether it's in a PM, a review, or an ask on tumblr (sword-and-stars), I really don't mind! I'll post them as I write them.

* * *

**Frosting  
**_OT3 (Yuri x Estelle x Flynn) cooking!_

* * *

Yuri doesn't know why he tries.

Flynn sucks at cooking, Estelle also sucks at cooking, even if it is to a lesser extent, and Yuri just wants them out of the kitchen so he can bake in peace. Okay, so he did tell Estelle a few weeks back that he'd let her help with Bartel's birthday cake if she could get away from the capitol, and Flynn is rarely further than a step behind her at any given time.

Not that Yuri has much of an issue with this, because if he had his way he'd see both of them every single day and every single night with only hours of inevitability in between, and he hates the separation.

Yuri got used to being alone and now he's not, and now it really kind of sucks when they're not here.

That doesn't make either of them more helpful, though, especially when there's a party in six hours and Yuri _does_ have other things to get done for it other than cooking, and of course he wouldn't dream of not leaving a few hours to spare for catching up, but seriously. Yuri has _stuff_ to do.

And neither Flynn nor Estelle are helping.

Well, Estelle is trying. She can do small things as long as she's shown them first but that doesn't mean that Yuri's going to give her free rein with the recipe and Flynn…no.

No, no, no.

Flynn's lack of ability in the kitchen is as infamous as his ability as a commandant, and Yuri rather likes Bartel; he doesn't want to kill him just yet.

He looks over at his lovers and sighs. Estelle glances up and smiles sheepishly. She knows, of course. Flynn does too but he doesn't really care.

Ass.

"Look," Yuri says, "Not that I don't appreciate the, ahem, help," he eyes Flynn sharply, who shrugs, "But this is too many people trying to do the same things. It's not going to work." So he directs Flynn to the bowl of spare batter, which he'd tripled in a just-in-case measure that hadn't been needed. "There are pans under the oven, put paper cups in them and fill them about halfway. No point in wasting it."

Flynn sighs and finally deigns to look the slightest bit shamefaced, but does as Yuri orders.

Estelle he trusts just a tiny bit more. Not much, but a little more.

"Put the powdered sugar I set out with the butter in this bowl," he pushes the bowl over, "And beat it with a whisk until it gets fluffy. Eventually you'll add some cream and vanilla but not or a while. You got that?" he makes a whisking motion with his arm and Estelle, looking entirely too amused,

salutes.

"Aye aye," she says, and is _definitely_ too amused to be allowed, "I think I can handle that."

Yuri watches her under a hawklike stare until he's sure that nothing is going to go horribly awry or explode. She whisks and whisks and Flynn pours batter until finally, finally, Yuri can focus on actually making Bartel a proper birthday cake.

At least until there's a muffled choking noise behind him and he can't help but whip around to stare.

He's not disappointed. Flynn's stopped mid-pour and for once Yuri can't make himself yell at him, because he doesn't blame him for a second. Somehow Estelle's managed to get buttercream all over her face and apron (probably from whisking too hard) and thank goodness Yuri tripled that recipe too. She's finally noticed and is muttering under her breath though she hasn't noticed the stares of her comrades, who can't seem to look away.

Estelle pats her cheek, frowns, and scoops a dollop of frosting off to pop it into her mouth, and Yuri spares maybe half a second to check his cake before he moves, caging her against the countertop and kissing her swiftly.

"Yuri?" she asks when he pulls away, green eyes bright and interested.

"You had frosting on your face," he replies and kisses her again. He can taste the sugar on her lips too; it's clearly not the first bit she's decided not to waste. And then there are hands on Yuri's hips and Yuri turns around to grin at Flynn, just in time to catch a hard, insistent kiss of his own.

He hopes it's sweet.

Estelle leans back a little to watch, and Yuri can't help but pull her back in a little when he sees the look in her eyes—she's so shamelessly in love with both of them and Yuri has no idea how he went so long without seeing it.

"No, no, don't mind me," she informs them, "The view's good from here."

And this time Flynn's the one to move, somehow twisting around Yuri like the sneaky bastard he's been since he was four and wrapping an arm around her, crushing both her and Yuri into his armor until they squeak. Or, in Yuri's case, grunt in the most manly way to ever happen since the dawn of time. Ever.

Which is totally a squeak because the next thing any of them know, Estelle's giggling into the nape of Flynn's neck and Flynn is sniggering helplessly, and Yuri has _no idea_ why he decided to get involved with them, clearly. None. At all.

Except that he still tastes the frosting from Estelle's lips and what had to be cake batter from Flynn, because he clearly can't leave well enough alone either.

Yuri would sigh except that he's much too content to do so right now, wrapped around two of the people he loves more than anyone else, and he considers putting cake off for a bit and taking those spare hours he'd put aside for more useful things…

Until there's a rattle behind him.

The three of them whip around and there's Bartel standing in the middle of the doorway, the only trace of embarrassment on his face being the tiny dusting of color high on his cheeks.

"Well, uh, happy birthday to me," he mutters.

Estelle and Flynn look like they both want to die but again, all Yuri can feel is content, like a cat who's gotten exactly what it wanted.

"Hey," he greets casually like his lips aren't kiss-bruised and his eyes aren't hazy and he doesn't have one lover pinned up against the counter and the other pressed up behind him in a way that was entirely inappropriate for public company. "Happy birthday."

"I'm gonna…go." Bartel says slowly. "Right. I'm gonna just go on and go."

"Good plan," Yuri says evenly. "There's going to be cake."

"I can see that."

And then the man _flees_, Yuri would be bummed about the mood being broken except for the fact that there's a bowl of perfect vanilla buttercream just to his left and only one of the cupcakes is going to be ruined, and Yuri knows he'll be able to get those hours eventually.

With interest.

* * *

AN2: Thank you for reading! As always, feel free to shoot me any ideas you might have in a review, a PM, or an ask!


	6. Morning

Snap

* * *

Disclaimer: No.

* * *

Summary: A collection of short one-shots based almost solely upon requests. Multiple characters, pairings, and alternate universes.

* * *

AN: So this is a series of short fics that I like to write at work when I'm bored out of my skull. They'll contain multiple characters, multiple pairings, and in fact you're more than welcome to make a request yourself. Whether it's in a PM, a review, or an ask on tumblr (sword-and-stars), I really don't mind! I'll post them as I write them.

Also, this probably goes without saying but the requests that get done faster are the ones that I like the most or are easiest for me. So of course you're welcome to request anything but I really like the ones that get my imagination going, like AUs and games twists. On with the show!

* * *

**Morning  
**_Yuri x Estelle!_

* * *

Yuri has a habit of coming in through the window.

Estelle's pretty sure that he doesn't intend to scare her half to death and she knows why he does it, because he hates being in the castle and the only reason he ever wants to go there is to see her. He almost never lets her know in advance and it's almost always at night, which is probably part of the reason why he comes in through the window like a prowler and not through the front door.

There're different reasons, sometimes he comes by to chat, sometimes he's on the way back from a job and Zaphias is closer than any of the border towns and needs somewhere to crash, and sometimes…

Sometimes, like tonight, it's because he's injured.

Estelle's awake instantly when she hears the windows creak open and there's Yuri, looking like an absolute mess. There are sticks in his hair and mud smudges on his face and his right arm hangs at an unnatural angle, bleeding sluggishly.

"Yuri!" she exclaims and scrambles out of bed to meet him, nearly tripping over herself to get there, "What happened to you?"

He makes a grumpy face.

"Job went wrong. Got it done but…" he makes a helpless gesture at his arm and Estelle understands. He can heal bumps and bruises and cuts, which is why the one on his arm is half healed, but bones are something entirely different and should be left to a professional. And, well, Estelle's not really a professional but she knows plenty about healing and has done plenty of healing on Yuri, and she knows he hates doctors.

He doesn't even really _like_ it when he has to deal with her, but he likes it better than going to a doctor.

"Right," Estelle says and tugs him over by his good arm to sit on her bed. Her guards would throw _fits_ if they knew about this, so she doesn't breathe a word. It's none of their business anyway. This is between her and Yuri. "Sit here, okay?"

The broken arm is a cinch but she takes her time anyway, going deep with her artes at her fingertips to make sure that it really is good as new. Yuri sways a little where he sits and droops. He really does look exhausted and Estelle wants to ask him what his job was but would really rather he get some sleep instead. Normally when this happens he sprawls out on the immense sofa at the other end of the room but even if she wanted to, Estelle's not sure he's up to getting up and going over to it.

So instead she picks the sticks and leaves out of Yuri's hair and hands him a damp cloth to wipe his face.

"You're not going anywhere," she informs him and kneels down to unbuckle Yuri's left boot. "So get comfortable."

"Nah, it's—it's fine," Yuri mumbles and makes to get up, "It's fine, I'll just grab an inn or something—"

Estelle sighs and very gently pushes him down until he's practically engulfed in pillows.

"Don't be ridiculous," she chides, "You don't have a head injury, do you?"

Yuri smirks tiredly at her.

"No, no, I'm good."

"Good," Estelle tells him and brings the blanket up to tuck it around his shoulders. "Get some rest."

"I kicked its ass, you know."

"I have no doubts," she says quietly. Yuri's through protesting. He knows she's right and he knows that he's not getting over to the sofa much less an inn, much less Dahngrest, and Estelle relishes her victory. It's an advantage sometimes that when she takes her time the healing process makes him warm and sleepy (always has) because it means that he doesn't fight with her as much and she can do what she needs to, which right now is make sure that Yuri's safe and cared for. He passes out almost immediately and Estelle really means to grab a spare blanket and crash on the couch herself but the next thing she knows, a couple of minutes sitting down turns into several more, which turn into slumping over…

Until eventually she's stretched out next to Yuri in her own bed, which should concern her but Estelle really just doesn't care that much about it.

And that's how she falls asleep and somehow by morning she's plastered herself to Yuri's back like she's playing big spoon. He's still out by the time she wakes up and Estelle relishes the feeling of being warm and content in a nest of blankets with Yuri for so long that she falls asleep again.

And then when she wakes up again Yuri's twisted and is propped up on an elbow just in time to raise an eyebrow at her.

"Morning," he says, "Fancy meeting you here." The only indication that this doesn't happen every day is the dusting of color across his cheeks, and Estelle feels something start to purr in the pit of her stomach.

"Good morning!" she chimes back and beams, because his other arm is draped across her shoulders with no intention of being moved and Estelle can't help but feel like it belongs there. They stay like that for a while, Yuri quiet and indecipherable, Estelle quiet and not wanting to break whatever spell's been cast on the morning.

Yuri slips out the way he came in over an hour later right when it gets to the point that Estelle needs to be getting up, and Estelle?

The smile doesn't leave her face for the rest of the day.

* * *

AN2: Thank you for reading! As always for this fic, you're welcome to drop a prompt in the form of a review, a PM, or an ask.


	7. Jet Plane

Snap

* * *

Disclaimer: No.

* * *

Summary: A collection of short one-shots based almost solely upon requests. Multiple characters, pairings, and alternate universes.

* * *

AN: So this is a series of short fics that I like to write at work when I'm bored out of my skull. They'll contain multiple characters, multiple pairings, and in fact you're more than welcome to make a request yourself. Whether it's in a PM, a review, or an ask on tumblr (sword-and-stars), I really don't mind! I'll post them as I write them.

* * *

**Jet Plane  
**_Yuri hates flying. Yuri really, really hates flying._

* * *

Yuri hates flying.

Yuri really, really hates flying.

Always has, always will, and that's never going to change. Literally if there's any other way for him to get somewhere he'll take it. Thirteen hour train ride? No sweat. Five day road trip? Yuri likes driving. A week on a bus and probably a few ferries and more bus rides and then probably a six day trek via donkey…

Well, even Yuri's got to call it somewhere, and he knows when it's time to bite the bullet.

It's not like he's scared of heights, he's done all sorts of crazy stuff like parasailing and bungee jumping and just— he just really hates planes. Who'd willingly put themselves into a metal deathtrap and go thousands of feet in the air?

Not Yuri if he can help it.

Sadly he can't help it right now and that's how he ends up feverishly fastening his seat belt on one of the aforementioned metal deathtraps. How did he end up with the window seat? Yuri HATES the window seat. The seat next to him is empty and he considers sidling over into the aisle and praying that no one comes and sits in it…

Yeah, right. The plane's already filling up with people and Yuri finds himself watching each person, wondering whether they'll be the one to stop or bypass his row.

The older guy in the pork pie and pinstripes goes in by, the lady with the squalling toddler sits down about three rows ahead and Yuri is grateful that he brought a pair of headphones. The lady with THREE squalling toddlers goes all the way back to where the bathrooms are.

Yuri lets himself breathe. She was the last person he could see, he might actually be home free and seatmate-less—

Except that Yuri Lowell is never that lucky.

"Excuse me, I am so sorry," he hears a high, stressed out voice saying from the front of the plane. Yuri Lowell is NEVER that lucky, and he can't even be surprised when a young woman slides into the aisle seat next to him.

Well, good for her, then, he grumbles silently. There goes his silent flight. Yuri can't even look out the window without wanting to claw his way right out of this plane. Where's Repede when he needs him? Where's anyone when Yuri needs them? Hell, he'd even take Mr. Incessantly-Cheerful-Flyer himself, Flynn who likes to call himself Yuri's best friend.

"…are you okay?"

Yuri jerks at the voice and when a hand gently taps the top of his hand. The woman next to him -pretty much still a girl- stares at him in open concern and he shifts away.

"I—I'm fine," he mutters, "Don't worry about it."

He's pretty sure that to anyone else that would be a blatant signal that he wasn't going to be much for conversation but apparently not to her, because she doesn't look put off at all.

"Do you not like flying?" She asks.

Yuri doesn't answer because it's right then that the engines start to rumble and the plane begins to move and he finds himself pressed back against the seat as hard as he can, his hands white-knuckled on the arm rests. He HATES flying. So much. The stewardess talks but he doesn't hear a word of it.

All he has to do is sit still and don't look out the window and he won't die. Probably.

"Excuse me…"

What will it take for her to get that he really, really doesn't feel like talking?

"If you're uncomfortable, would you like to switch seats with me?"

The sharp answer on the tip of Yuri's tongue stops dead and he turns to look at her properly. She's short with bright green eyes and pink hair that frames her face and kept out of her eyes with barrettes and right now she's frowning at him. Yuri raises an incredulous eyebrow.

"If…if you don't like flying, it's best to be on the inside, right?" She asks. "And I like the window seat. But if you're okay, then it's no problem."

Yuri is all kinds of not okay right now and the fact that the plane is speeding up is making him all kinds of nervous.

"Yeah, okay," he answers finally and unfastens his safety belt. The girl does the same and they switch seats under the dirty stare of the flight attendant several rows up. Yuri feels somewhat better almost immediately and the girl presses her nose to the window, stares out for a few moments, and then pulls back.

"My name is Estellise," she says, smiles, and holds out her hand. "What's yours?"

Yuri stares at her for a few moments, eyes the offered hand, and suddenly thinks about his single broken-in bag stashed underneath his seat, the one Estellise is sitting in now. She probably has a whole brigade of bags down in cargo; she looks the type and Yuri can almost smell the money on her. It's obvious enough in the way she just thoughtlessly gave up her seat, even though she's gotten the kind of deal she likes in sitting at the window. Overly friendly people kind of weird Yuri out.

Still, the kid's most definitely harmless and she's still smiling and waiting for him.

Eventually, Yuri takes her hand and shakes it firmly.

"My name's Yuri," he says, "Yuri Lowell. Nice to meet you."

Estellise beams a megawatt smile that could light up a darkened room.

"And it's very nice to meet you too," she replies, and Yuri can't help but think she means it. The plane (deathtrap, Yuri thinks) rumbles and shakes a little and Yuri's immeasurably grateful that he's not staring out the window, even though the girl next to him remains nonplussed.

Yuri hates flying. Hates, hates, hates flying and that's not going to change anytime soon, or ever.

But throughout the flight he unlocks his death grip on the arm rest and focuses on Estellise because she's a distraction he didn't know he wanted, and six hours in when she drops pasta on her front during the in-flight meal and buys the both of them a couple of those little bottles of wine from the same stewardess who was giving them death stares earlier, she becomes Estelle.

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AN2: Thank you so much for reading! Again, if you liked this or have a request for me, please feel free to drop me a few words in a review or put something in my ask box~


	8. Bloom

Snap

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Disclaimer: No.

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Summary: A collection of short one-shots based almost solely upon requests. Multiple characters, pairings, and alternate universes.

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AN: So this is a series of short fics that I like to write at work when I'm bored out of my skull. They'll contain multiple characters, multiple pairings, and in fact you're more than welcome to make a request yourself. Whether it's in a PM, a review, or an ask on tumblr (sword-and-stars), I really don't mind! I'll post them as I write them.

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**Bloom  
**_Estelle and Yuri—flowers._

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Estelle's seen him from the window of the shop at least twenty times before she ever gets the chance to talk to him. She's behind the counter and there's a storm raging outside and she's trying desperately to not to think about how long it's likely to last and the fact that she doesn't have an umbrella with her and that her apartment has a leak that the complex has yet to come and fix (much to Rita's fury and Judith's irrepressible calm) and being bored out of her mind when she catches sight of him.

She sees him regularly—sometimes riding a motor scooter and sometimes walking a dog but he never comes in. He always looks rather focused on what he's doing and often carries boxes or bags in his arms or in the basket of his scooter and Estelle doesn't know why he interests her so much. He does, though, and she's nearly ruined many a macchiato by watching him pass by instead of timing the espresso.

Thunder cracks and the power goes out completely, and Estelle jerks a little, the mug in her hand nearly tumbling out of her grasp. The shop's empty except for an older gentleman in a thick jacket who gets up almost immediately and hurries out, leaving Estelle alone in a darkened coffee shop and no generator.

She resists the urge to swear and glances to the window, only to go entirely still.

Outside in the darkened street there's an even darker shape leaning up against the window, and Estelle rather regrets her choice of reading material last night because her brain jumps almost immediately to the thought that he might be a prowler or something equally shady. She can't get a good look and she creeps over to the door, gripping a canister of coffee behind her back.

If he is a prowler, she might have a chance of knocking him out with five pounds of unground beans. If she's lucky.

Estelle silently opens the door a crack and peers out. The possible prowler doesn't notice her with the storm but the large, dark bundle of fur at his side does, lifting its head and growling. The stranger turns to look at her and Estelle skitters backwards and nearly slams the door on her own fingers. Of course, she ends up forgetting the coffee in her hands entirely until it's clattering to the ground useless and she's being loomed over by—

Wait, she knows this guy. Well, she doesn't _know_ him but this is the guy she sees all the time on his scooter and that's the dog he's always got with him, and he couldn't be any wetter if he jumped in a pool instead. Estelle stares up at him, wide-eyed, and water drips off of his hair and into her face.

"Uh, crap. Sorry." The man backs away, right out from under the overhang and without thinking twice, Estelle darts out of the store to grab his arm and pull him back.

"Wait! Do you…do you want to come inside and dry off? It's dangerous outside. Not that we have any power or anything but I can get you a towel and—and there's still coffee that's hot and—" Estelle's rambling a little bit now and the man looks like he's about to protest but before he can, a flash of lightning lights up the sky and not a second later a crack of thunder follows, and the dog at his side presses up against his knees. Estelle follows his gaze. "Your dog can come inside too," she offers. Her manager would have a fit if she knew but her manager's not here and Estelle's going to make her own rules as long as she's in charge.

This changes her stranger's mind and he lets her pull him inside. He looks even wetter inside the dry, if dark, coffee shop and Estelle bustles into the back to come out with an armful of towels.

"Here, use these," she says and kneels down to drape another over the dog, who moves away. "Oh."

"Don't worry about it, Repede's not too into strangers," the man says, "Don't take it personally. May I?" Estelle nods and gives him the towel. "Thanks."

"Oh, it's no problem," she replies, glancing around. "It's just me, anyway." Which kind of really sucked, actually. The stranger raises an eyebrow. "I mean—what kind of crazy person would be out in this kind of—oh, oops, not that I think you're crazy or anything, it's just-uh…I'm going to stop talking now, okay?" Estelle can feel her cheeks heating up in mortification but the stranger stares at her for exactly five seconds before throwing his head back and laughing outright. Estelle flushes deeper and wrings her hands.

Laughter's a good thing, though? At least it means he's not offended.

"I'm Estelle," she says when he's got his breath back and hopes that he'll tell her his name, because she wants to be able to think of him as someone other than the interesting and more than moderately attractive guy who rides a scooter around town and occasionally makes Estelle ruin coffee.

"Yuri," he answers her and wrings out his hair with a towel. "Yuri Lowell."

Estelle smiles and takes a closer look at him. Yuri's tall and skinny with long dark hair and sharp grey eyes, and he's not carrying anything today—

Until she catches sight of the box still outside. It's cardboard and soaking wet and crumpled on one side.

"Oh, shoot, your things…"

"Don't worry about it," Yuri tells her, "It's ruined anyway. Wait, what are you—stop that, you don't need to…" Estelle doesn't pay his protests any mind and ducks out into the cold and wet to grab the box, struggling to hold on to it. There's a rip and the next thing she knows, a ceramic pot is falling out through the bottom, breaking into pieces, and showering the floor with soil and flowers. "…that's why I left it outside. Damnit."

Estelle goes very still.

"…oh," she whispers, "I-I'm sorry."

Yuri sighs a little.

"Really, don't worry about it. The rain got it first."

Nevertheless, Estelle's already in the back to fetch a broom and dustpan and by the time she gets back, there's a neat pile of ceramic stacked up next to the dirt, which she kneels down to clean up.

"Something for you?" she asks as she sweeps, separating the plants from the dirt as she goes.

"Nah, it was an order for someone," Yuri says, "I work in a flower shop."

That she wouldn't have expected, he doesn't seem the type. If Estelle were to make a guess, she'd have said he would have been in a band, or maybe would have been a student like her, or maybe work in a record store…really, pretty much anything other than a flower shop. He's watching her like he expects judgment to come raining down at any second, though, and Estelle flashes him a smile.

"That's neat. It sounds like a fun job." More fun than making coffee, but that's mostly the day talking rather than her real feelings about it. Estelle usually quite likes it, likes talking to the customers and likes making coffee even though no one lets her near the sandwiches. She doesn't like it much when she's the only one here and the power goes out, though.

"It's okay."

Yuri shifts on the balls of his feet and Estelle beckons for him to take a seat, if only to make him more comfortable.

"Sit, sit. Let me get you a coffee, okay? We might not have power but it _should_ still be hot…or do you prefer tear?" Tea will be infinitely more difficult but she can find a way. Luckily, Yuri nods.

"Coffee sounds awesome, actually."

"Good!" Estelle grabs one of the big cups and fills it with the last of the pot that's still steaming. "Milk, sugar? Flavor?" Might as well, if the power's out for much longer she'll have to throw out all the dairy anyway.

"Plain is fine."

Estelle brings him the coffee and then scoops up the flowers. Even unpotted it seems kind of sad to waste them. So after a bit of debate she kneels down and scoops them up, roots and roots and all, and pops them into one of the frappuccino cups. Yuri raises a skeptical brow at her.

"You can just toss them," he tells her.

"Oh, I couldn't!" Estelle shakes her head vehemently back and forth, "They're way too pretty. And a little rain never hurt anyone." She doesn't know what kind of flowers they are but they're pretty, all bright yellow and pink even though the rain's left some of the petals thin and drooping. "Hopefully this weather will calm down soon. You and Repede are welcome to stay until it does." Again, if her manager has a problem with it, Estelle will remind her that she's called exactly four times with no answer and has exactly no one to help her. She's certainly not going to throw anyone out into this gale, no matter who they happen to be, human or animal.

"Appreciated. I'm fine but Repede doesn't like water too much; it kinda freaks him out."

Estelle would like nothing more than to reach out and pet said dog but she's pretty sure it won't go well so she smiles at him instead before turning her gaze back to Yuri.

"He's very handsome," she says, "And polite." She wishes she had something to offer Repede as well but a lot of the pastries have chocolate or other things that she knows are bad for dogs. Maybe he could have a biscotti? How unhealthy are croissants for dogs?

Yuri entire demeanor, polite but distant, softens and relaxes at her words and, with an empty shop and a single unexpected customer, Estelle feels comfortable enough to pull out a second chair and sit down across the table from him, propping her chin up in her hands.

Yuri Lowell is twenty-one and has been working at _Arrivederci_ for about a year and dropped out of the police academy a month ago, something his roommate has yet to forgive him for. Yuri Lowell got Repede when he was a tiny puppy when he was wandering the streets on a day not unlike today. Yuri Lowell likes the color red and hates mushrooms and likes to travel but hates airplanes, and once spent four days on a bus to avoid flying. Yuri Lowell doesn't have any siblings but his roommate might as well be his brother for as much as they fight and as long as they've been best friends.

Yuri Lowell is more interesting now that Estelle's finally met him than he was when he was a complete mystery and she drinks in his words like she does the ones in her books.

And eventually the weather calms and the reverie breaks and Estelle has to actually try to get the power back on, and Yuri slips out of the shop with a backwards wave and a goodbye to leave Estelle as alone as she started. The warmth he brought with him stays behind until she leaves and follows her home, where Rita asks why she can't stop smiling and Estelle can't really answer.

The next day, she sees Yuri on his scooter and doesn't ruin anyone anyone's coffee but she does wave to him and he waves back as he drives by. The flowers she dropped stay in the back in their cup of water where she can look at them for about three days before they wilt and she has to throw them out.

The day after, a customer brings in something that's been left on the threshold—

A cluster of pink and yellow flowers that she can't identify, wrapped in tissue and tied with a ribbon.

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AN2: Thank you very much for reading!


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